Gumdrop Hearts
by oh so fawksey
Summary: A collection of shorts - stolen kisses and much needed hugs - romantic scenes between various pairings of Harry Potter characters. R&R and enjoy! Most commonly used character: Hermione - but there may be some surprises, so read on. Message me with any requests.
1. I'm George!

Disclaimer: I own nothing and there is no personal gain from this writing.

1: I'm _George!_

She was in a bubble, the bubble that always showed up when something big was going to happen, and something big was. OWLS were swiftly approaching, and Hermione Granger was stressed. She had Charms and Transfiguration studying to do, as well as Herbology prep, not to mention all that potions homework… Groaning to herself, she bustled down the hallway, heading for the library. "I'll be lucky if I can make it through _today_ , let alone through OWLS," she thought as the stately wooden doors of the library approached.

Her bubble meant that she was oblivious to everything but her studies, so she missed Draco and Pansy Parkinson fighting, bickering again, like they always did, a lover's spat. She missed a hello from Luna, as she wafted down the hall in a way only Luna could, to Charms, _and_ she missed one of the twins as he glanced up at her from the potions book he was reading, an aisle over from hers.

She was particular about where she sat to study. The Advanced History aisle was always empty. If Professor Binns was good at anything, it was sounding like a book, making the history aisle a particularly deserted one.

She set down her pile of parchment, books and ink, plopped down in a seat, and took off her cloak, immediately starting to scratch away at her potions work. But her brain wouldn't let her focus. Potions homework, Charms and Transfiguration studying, Herbology prep, and _of course_ , how could she have forgotten? Professor Umbridge wanted them to memorize all kinds of facts about some first year level DADA. Mentally cursing herself for being so unorganized, she sighed deeply, trying desperately to push the raucous bedlam from her brain long enough to finish this paper.

"When you combine three horned slugs with a simple sleeping draught at medium temperature and mix six times counter clockwise, what have you created?" _I know this I know this I know this!_ She repeated over and over in her head, but to no avail, the properties of horned slugs had escaped her mind. Sighing yet again, she pushed away from the table and headed to the potions isle next door. She quickly started scanning titles, looking for a book she had read over the summer. Gently brushing her fingers over the spines of the ancient books, she quickly became distracted.

Taking a second to marvel at how ancient and wise they were, she let her bubble protect her now from the worries of horned slugs and memorization, just for a moment. "To think about how many students had thumbed through these same pages over time. They've lasted so long and done so much. How many fingers frantically flipped through their pages right before an exam? How many new students walked into the library and stood still, marveling at how beautiful it is, how teeming with -" Her musings were cut short.

"'Mione!" She turned quickly to see Fred standing there, grinning a little.

"Blimey! I called your name four times! You're going to get me kicked out for talking so loud." He exclaimed, feigning hurt.

"Oh _bother!_ I'm sorry Fred, I spaced out!" She said, blushing lightly at the thought of him watching her practically worship the books.

"Bloody hell! I'm _George!_ " He cried even louder, his face falling.

A small smile crept across her face, as she proudly stated, "You are _not_ George. George doesn't have a freckle next to his eyebrow." Seeing as the Weasleys had no shortage of freckles, this was an unexpected answer. He murmured quietly to himself as he searched his face for the telltale freckle.

She took a step forward, reaching out her hand to touch the very end of his eyebrow, with one finger.

"Right there, a freckle that George doesn't have. So there!" She whisper-shouted triumphantly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He was still speechlessly massaging his face while she looked up at him, smiling a little. Hermione was quite proud that she had managed to get a Weasley twin to lose his ability to crack a joke for a precious moment.

And then something unexpected happened.

In one quick motion Fred took a small step forward, closing the small distance between them, slipping his arm around the small of her back, and leaning in, gently fitting his mouth to hers. They stood like that, pressed against each other in a passionate and gentle kiss as her stomach flooded with a warm feeling. The screaming stress of OWLS and homework and studying all dissipated as he held her close and she kissed him back. The only thing she could even think of thinking was, "maybe I _can_ survive the day."

Once they pulled away, Fred smiled down at her and said, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to do that."

She smiled, her face bright red as she stood up on her tiptoes and kissed the edge of his eyebrow.

"For the record Fred, you don't have a freckle there."


	2. Quidditch

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I gain nothing, and everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.

2: Quidditch Perks

The sun reflected glaringly off of Harry's glasses as he searched frantically for the snitch. Slytherin was giving them a run for their cup, the tension was tangible. The lead has been switching between the two teams and there seemed to be no end in sight. Scanning the grounds from his perch above the streaming red and green capes, the grunts and screams of Lee Jordan as he threw insult after insult to the Slytherin name could be heard rather clearly, along with the exasperated squawks of Professor McGonagall as she tried to calm him, but to no avail. Suddenly out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a tiny golden glimmer. Quickly jerking his broom around to face it, he squinted in the afternoon sun, the elusive sparkle gone. And there it was again! Hovering down low to the ground, its intricate wings making a tiny glittering spot, sat the snitch. He quickly tipped his broom towards the ground, leaning forward and gaining speed rapidly. Wood, seeing him streaking down from above, let out a cheer, new hope swelling in his eyes. Malfoy was slow at realizing what was happening beneath him, having been distracted by the play had lost any chance of catching up. He swooped and circled around the field, watching carefully for any sign the snitch had escaped. He recognized Harry's dive however, the snitch was Harry's, Gryffindor would win. Harry could see the snitch approaching rapidly as he reached out his arm, his other tightening on his broom handle, ready to pull to a stop at the last second, when a strangled cry from George to, "Look out Harry!" reached him. Just as his fingers closed around the snitch, he felt a large object crash into his side, and he was thrown from his broom. Spots danced across his vision and the world rapidly closed around him as he fell into darkness.

When he came to, he was in a soft bed surrounded by pillows. Madam Pomfrey was blotting his face with a cool cloth.

"Thank Merlin you're awake child, nasty nasty sport! If you ask me it should be banned!" She scolded freely, punctuating each declaration with a rather hard blot on his face.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey. I appreciate it." Harry managed to get out. Her face immediately softened and she smiled warmly down at her regular.

"Of course dear, it's my job isn't it," at which point her expression became stormy again as she resumed her rant, "patch you up so you can go on out and get broken again. It's a vile, violent sport. Poppycock, the lot of it!" She intoned, finally satisfied that his face was thoroughly soaked, and he was thoroughly awake. She soon bustled off muttering darkly to herself about broken ribs and "nasty sports."

Speaking of broken ribs Harry decided it was time to inspect the damage. Glancing down at his side from where his head was propped up on the magically fluffed pillows, he saw his side wrapped tightly in a layer of white gauze that was… no, it couldn't be… was it… _steaming?_

It was. Little clouds of steam floated up from the bandages, curling around themselves before quickly dissipating. Figuring the enchantments and potions on the bandages were only doing good, and because he had learned during his numerous visits to the infirmary over the last four years not to question Madame Pomfrey, he decided to let it be... For an entire thirty seconds. After that his curiosity got the better of him and he gingerly lifted the top edge of the wrappings.

The sight that assailed his eyes was not a pretty one. His side was various colors that human skin generally shouldn't be. Besides the intense bruising, a large portion was pink and inflamed like a healing wound, with a scabbed-over ridge at the top. It looked like a Bludger had crashed into his side, cracking his rib in just a way that half of it had split through, rupturing his skin. He decided to try and work on reigning in his insatiable curiosity a little as he was feeling quite queasy.

Letting his head fall back onto the pillows and closing his eyes tight he willed the image floating in his mind away. As he lay there he heard someone approaching, and for fear of having to suffer through another one of Madame Pomfrey's rants, he lay still, relaxing his face and steadied his breath. The person was standing over him. He could hear them. " _Focus,_ " he thought to himself, " _y_ ou are out cold, you are asleep, then she'll do what she has to do and leave _, quietly_."

Silence. He was dying to see what was happening on the outside of his eyes, but he remained steadfast with his resolve to hold back on the curiosity for a little while. He strained his ears, and there it was, quiet breathing. Perhaps there was a sudden draft, he swore he could feel a gentle breeze on his face…

Suddenly something soft and warm was on his mouth, another mouth was on his mouth! His eyes flew open as he saw a halo of brown curls moving upward. He snapped his eyes shut as Hermione began to talk to him.

"Oh Harry, I do hope you get better soon. That was a nasty hit. Oh _Merlin_ I was so worried! There was blood and Hagrid carried you off the field…" Here she trailed off, and just as Harry was about to open his eyes she started up again.

"I don't know why I'm even talking, you're still asleep, which is good, because you need rest, and if you weren't asleep -" she stopped again, and he could nearly feel how red she must be, and he just couldn't pass up the opportunity to make her go even redder.

"You're right, I do need my rest." He intoned as if he had been talking to her the whole time. And he was correct; she was blushing, looking down at the end of the bed. As soon as she heard his voice, she whipped around, her eyes wide and her mouth fell open a little. Her face soon flushed a deep, deep crimson as she slapped his chest, "You absolute _git!_ You were awake the whole time weren't you?" She cried, halfheartedly attacking his chest. He winced a little as his side gave a painful throb, but kept his cheerful smirk on his face. Nonetheless, she caught the wince and clutched her hand to her chest.

"I'm sorry Harry! You must be in pain. But you're still bloody evil. I hope you know that you git!" She intoned, her blushing furiously.

"Quick 'Mione, is Madame Pomfrey around?" He asked, making his voice urgent. She turned, frantically scanning the room.

"No she isn't! No one is around!" She cried. "Oh Harry! Have I hurt you? Shall I run and find Madame Pomfrey?"

"No no, it's ok… _You_ can help me." He offered.

"Sure Harry, what do you need?"

"Well…" He started, a grin spreading across his face, "you could kiss me again." She gave him a withering glare and he hastened to offer more incentive.

"I mean, it was _such_ a good painkiller. I can pretend to be asleep again!" He chuckled as her face went bright red again. He pulled out his secret weapon - the puppy eyes.

She sighed dramatically as she saw what his ploy had been all along. Although she crossed her arms and glared at him, he knew he was winning.

"Harry James Potter you are awful." She said, leaning in and planting another kiss on his lips. But this time as she made to pull away, Harry reached up a hand, ignoring the pain bursting in his side, and caught the back of her head, keeping her there. And as they kissed, he could have sworn his vision exploded with stars.


	3. When Christmas Came Early

Disclaimer: I own nothing, I gain nothing, everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.

Christmas decorations had appeared the morning of the last day of classes before break. Trees decorated hallways, red and green ornaments dangling from each bough. Wreaths adorned each door, streamers hung from the walls, and everyone was in a fine mood.

The elves had really put their all into dinner, for it was a feast to be remembered for years. Steaming bowls of Yorkshire pudding, roasted geese, hams, turkeys and pheasants, pastries, fruits, baked potatoes; gravy and applesauce filled the tables. Dessert was even more phenomenal. Exquisitely decorated Christmas cookies piled up, fudges, puddings, delicate pastries, hot cocoa, pies, tarts, the works. The student's all dug in happily, everyone had a grin on their face, and one person in particular had a mischievous grin on his.

There was a gathering of Gryffindors in the Room of Requirement for a small holiday party, no gifts, just some games, and some firewhiskey. A group of 5th years with a few 4th and 6th years were off in the corner, playing truth or dare around a small table. George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville were among them.

In the other corner, a slightly larger group of 6th and 7th years were playing Seven Minutes of Heaven. Every few minutes a roar of laugher would sound from their side as couples were paired up and sent into a closet.

Fred however had a different agenda. Holding his cup of firewhiskey in one hand, he sauntered over to Angelia who was standing off to the corner.

"Hey Ang."

"Hi Fred! How goes it?" She asked, the light from the candles reflecting off of her eyes, giving them a twinkle.

"Not too bad," he replied, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at hers. _Merlin she's beautiful._ He thought, taking in her thin, straight nose, the tight curls that framed her face, her warm brown eyes, her long lashes, her full lips…

"Fred?" She asked, waving her hand in front of his face. He blinked and focused back on what she was saying.

"You zoned out mate." She said, chuckling. _Mate._ Friend zoned. Again. He plastered a smile on his face and joked through the pain.

"Ya know, when I space out, I see planets and stars, it isn't half bad." The smile was stuck. He was smiling, but it wasn't a real smile. It was a defense mechanism. The jokes and the smiles. Not always though, sometimes he loved his jokes, he loved messing around, he loved making everyone else smile.

Over at the truth or dare game, George had just chosen dare, (when had he ever chosen truth?). He made his way over to Angelina and Fred, popping easily into their Quidditch conversation. After a minute or so he elbowed Fred.

"We should join in the Seven Minutes," He said, jerking his head to the side to gesture at the corner where a loud roar erupted as two seventh years sheepishly exited the closet, their clothing disheveled and their lips swollen, more lipstick on his face than hers.

Fred shrugged, thinking there was no reason not to, Angelina clearly wasn't interested. The twins headed over, surprised for a moment when Angelina followed.

They easily joined in as the next couple was chosen, a sixth year and a seventh year. George oohed and ached along with the others while Fred kept the smile on his face, while he internally brooded. George was soon paired with a seventh year beauty, this broke Fred out of his shell as he slapped George on the back, whispering, "Go get 'er tiger," into George's ear as he made his way into the closet. He waited, chatting with a fellow sixth year until six minutes had passed. He waited for the last minute, smiling for real as the countdown started, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, ONE!

The closet door was flung open as George sheepishly detached himself from her face, and removed his had from the inside of her shirt. They all roared with laughter and catcalls as George triumphantly returned to Fred's side, lips swollen and red from hers.

Grinning, he gave Fred a punch in the arm, "You're next mate."

Fred's smile back was more of a grimace, and George instantly noticed. He looked from Fred to Angelina, and back to Fred. Giving Fred a quick nod and a mischievous smile, he slipped into the crowd, leaving Fred standing alone next to Angelina, who had stuck up a conversation with a fellow 6th year. His arms hung awkwardly at his sides as he stood, dreading the results of George's plans. The countdown for the current couple started as Fred stood on his tiptoes, scanning the crowd for is absent twin. As the countdown hit one and the closet doors were flung open, the couple jumping apart, blushing furiously as the small crowd laughed heartily, he finally spotted his mischievous counter part, standing next to the drawing hat.

The seventh year in charge of drawing names reached into the hat and pulled out a slip of paper.

After a moment, he called out, "Angelina Johnson," and Fred froze. Angelina looked up quickly, blushing a little before regaining her cool and looking out across the crowd as if looking for viable options as the next name was drawn.

"Fred Weasley."

A few cheers and guffaws of laughter spread across the gathering as Fred, looking down at the ground so as to hide how pink his face was, and Angelina made their way to the closet. Finally regaining his composure, Fred looked up and glared at his brother, catching sight of the smirk on George's face right as the closet doors were shut.

He fumbled around briefly in the inky black of the closet before finding his wand and lighting it.

There was Angelina, closer than he'd expected, softly smiling at him.

"Hey Ang," he said, smiling back.

"Hey," she replied, shyly looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"Look, we don't have to if-" But before he could get any further, her lips were on his, and the light on his wand snuffed out.

Back outside, George had seen Fred glare at him as the doors shut, but he knew that glare. That was his I-won't-say-thank-you-you-git glare, but he knew just how thankful Fred was for that little stunt without him having to say it. Just a few minutes to go…

Fred had only imagined how soft and warm Angelina's lips would be, but the actual feeling of her lips on his was better than anything he had dreamed of. Suddenly the tiny closet that had felt cramped and awkward just minutes ago, was just the right size.

When the final count down started to sound through the door, he didn't want to stop, and neither did it seem, did she, so they didn't. As the doors were flung open and the jeers from the crowd assailed their ears, Fred reluctantly separated from Angelina, as she hooked her fingers through his and they stepped out, squinting in the light.

He caught Georges eye as he made his way to the back of the crowd, and winked at him, as George beamed back.


End file.
